From Our Minds, Bereft of Sanity
by Atoms and Elements
Summary: And in the dead of night, when the moon was full and the village had silky, silver ribbons strewn about, Itachi became something of a lucid dream, where princes fell in love and smiles were never forced. AU/AH. OOC. ItaUnicycle. Narutumblr giftfic.


_**A/N:**_** Are you apart of the Narutumblr community? No? Well then this fic probably isn't for you. If you are, welcome, mates! This is the ItaUnicycle fic, finally written by me! I hope it meets your expectations, or at least is satisfactory! By the way, I bent a lot of laws and pretty much all of reality. Just go with it. Um...I think that's all I want to say. Enjoy...**

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_One-Shot_

**Third Person POV:**

Once upon a time, there was a regal, respected prince. Rising to power merely by his own strength and love for the land he would one day rule, this prince was known throughout the globe, one of the more prominent figures in the political world. Kings and Queens could even stop to admire his natural talent and breeding, as he was someone more remarkable than most could imagine a human being.

His name was Uchiha Itachi and he was the eldest son to Uchiha Fugaku and Uchiha Mikoto, making him the next in line for the throne. Itachi was a fair prince, adored by everyone in the Land of Fire—the people had grand hopes for him, hopes they anticipated him fulfilling during his reign.

Not only was he adored, but Itachi was relentlessly sought after. He was not only highly intelligent and sophisticated, but handsome beyond belief, with charisma and talent unlike any other. Truly befitting for the heir to the Uchiha throne. Princesses from kingdoms far and wide pursued the heir to the Kingdom of Konoha (which was the capital of the Land of Fire) with impressive determination.

Unfortunately for them though, Itachi had no such interests in women, which came as a shock to the entire kingdom. How could their beloved prince not want to take a wife? Without someone to bear his children, how could Itachi be king?

However, in light of the news, Fugaku decreed that Itachi would _still_ be taking over his mantle as king when he passed on, and Itachi's successor would either be his younger brother Uchiha Sasuke or any child of Sasuke's. This relieved the citizens of the Land of Fire greatly, for they had not wished for Itachi to abdicate from the throne prematurely.

And of course Sasuke would produce an heir, for he was enamoured with the Duchess Haruno Sakura. All was well within the kingdom once more.

But the people were worried for Itachi, as he'd started to seem lonelier and lonelier as the weeks progressed. Dark circles had begun to appear under his eyes, and his gentle smile seemed to hold more melancholy to it than cheerfulness, like it once had. The people were distraught for their prince, but unsure of what to do.

A dark cloud had fallen over the Land of Fire.

Until one day, the sun appeared in the form of one Uzumaki Naruto, the prince to the Land of Whirlpool.

Uzumaki Naruto was, in a word, the sun. All flaxen-blonde hair and eyes as blue as the cloudless skies. There was almost no way to describe Naruto, as he simply seemed to exude energy in its purest form. Standing at an imposing six feet, one might be intimidated by the man, but one glimpse at his whisker-scarred face was enough to put one's nerves at ease.

Originally, the young, sunny prince had come to the Land of Fire as a delegate of his homeland, but as his stay in Konoha had prolonged, the villagers began to notice how close Itachi and the new prince had grown. They spent almost every waking moment with each other; sitting together at formal dinners, going to festivals with each other, and they'd even been seen fencing together.

There was no telling exactly when things grew quite so serious, but one day the two princes were seen joking and trading playful blows, and the next they could be seen strolling through the town, hand-in-hand, trading each other deep, intimate gazes. Prince Uzumaki announced the next morning that he would not be returning to the Land of Whirlpool, and the village celebrated the night away.

Their beloved prince Itachi had finally found love! Not a month after Naruto made the announcement they began seeing the two males sporting matching silver engagement rings. The purple marks had disappeared from under Itachi's eyes and he'd even gained new colour to his usually pale white face.

Life around Konoha became significantly more peaceful, and it became a daily occurrence to see the two infamous lovebirds sharing a quick kiss in seemingly abandoned alleyways or giving each other innocent, yet intimate touches. Even the usually moody Sasuke found it in himself to smile more at his brother's joy.

The wedding was set to take place during midsummer, for that would give them ample time to spend together before being newlyweds, plus it would give time for the preparations to be made. While Itachi never outright said it, anyone could see the excitement in his usually reserved onyx eyes. It could clearly be said that the eldest Uchiha prince was overjoyed with the current state of things.

The same could be said for Naruto, who practically screamed it at anyone who didn't know _each_ and _every_ detail. For some, this was overbearing, but for the majority of the villagers, it was a sign that their future leader was happy and safe with his chosen partner.

All was well—truly, all was well within the Kingdom of the Land of Fire. The elder prince was in love and happy, which in turn made the king happy, which in turn made the rest of the land happy. They were joyous days of overwhelming hopes and promises of eternal peace.

They should've known that it was naught but a pipe dream.

For woe, sorrowful was the day that princess Hinata of the Hyūga clan paid a visit to Konoha. Forever would the villagers remember the sight of her moonlight, sightless eyes (as it only figured that the gem of the Hyūga clan who prided themselves so highly on their sight would have such a disability) and ever-flowing violet hair.

They wanted to say how her seemingly kind smile only held malicious intentions, but such was not the case. If anything, princess Hinata possessed by far the most gentle, if not docile, of spirits; not something easily come by. So while the citizens of the Land of Fire spat her name as if it were acid, they could not insult her or anything she stood for.

Perhaps that, in the end, was truly the most unfortunate thing.

At first, it'd been played out innocently enough—a casual run-in between strangers, in fact. Literally, Naruto had bashed into the princess Hinata on one of his rare trips through the village without Itachi by his side. Apologies upon apologies had occurred and then...

_(Well, it took a matter of weeks before...)_

It was sad, because one thing led to another, and, in the span, of a month, the ring on Itachi's finger had been melted down to a coin and Naruto's had been thrown into the Akani river. The delicate dark circles returned and the idea of a smile on Itachi's coral lips became nothing more than a ghostly notion.

Turquoise skies dimmed ever so slightly, but it was enough for the story to end on a poignant note. And the villagers just watched on from the distant sidelines, never sure how quite to rub away the tear troughs from under Itachi's eyes or how to breathe life back into him.

They could watch from underwater or between trees, but it would change nothing; and _they_ could change nothing, because they knew that prince Itachi was not one to accept pity (even if it was actually sympathy and even empathy). Naruto would leave in the midst of swirling leaves, but Itachi would hold his frozen heart between his frozen hands.

How could they have believed their stupid, fragile expectations would come true? And…was it selfish of them to also feel pain along with their stoic prince? Because…looking into his limitless, star-less-night-sky eyes…

Suddenly, life in the kingdom of Konoha became bleak. Maybe it was their unconditional love for the eldest Uchiha child, but the villagers became the same hollow husks as he had become. With sickly skin and restless eyes, they waited with baited breaths for the day when their prince would remerge from his depression.

Such a day would not come for them, despite everything.

And in the dead of night, when the moon was full and the village had silky, silver ribbons strewn about, Itachi became something of a lucid dream, where princes fell in love and smiles were never forced.

Such a strange, strange dream and the villagers never felt like waking up.

**·**

**·**

**·**

_[I'm tired of this, I'm tired of that.]_

_[Maybe in order to grow…]_

_[I need to disappear.]_

**·**

**·**

**·**

"Next!" The burly man called out, holding a ladle filled to the brim with an odd, stew-like mixture. He stood in front of a heavy, metal bin that contained the rest of the stew, and as he spoke, the line leading up to it shuffled forward, muffled murmurs tinting the air. Their empty eyes met the eyes of the server before the ladle was turned and the stew was poured into their complimentary paper bowls.

Unbeknownst to any of them, the crown prince Uchiha Itachi stood amongst them, messy raven locks thrown over his shoulders. Perhaps they _did_ know though, but none of them cared. They were sorry humans in sorry conditions, and the Land of Fire wasn't within miles of the area. So, had they noticed, none of the hollow humans cared.

"Next!"

He advanced forward and held out the flimsy bowl—_was it even? _The large man barely graced him with a glance before dumping the stew, not even minding to get it all _in_ the bowl. Itachi held back a grimace as droplets splattered onto his already grimy skin, staining it. The man's voice called out again, but the silent Uchiha was already long gone.

It might've just been Itachi's borderline apathetic personality, but he found that he could survive here easily by the docks. Doing manual labour in exchange for three hot meals a day and a place to sleep was surprisingly straightforward, plus…it kept his mind off other things. In any case, it was days away from the Land of Fire, so he didn't think any of his family's soldiers would be able to find him anytime soon.

The only hard part was _finding_ work—there were many jobs to do by the docks after all. By no means was Itachi weak or particularly picky, but one did not immediately think _'heavy lifter'_ when they saw his slender, lithe body. He was, in the end, born into a royal family, and members of the monarchy weren't generally known for their strength and manual dexterity.

Nevertheless, Itachi had proven himself, had _worked_ to earn his place. His place…his place among these other listless human beings who lived without dreams or aspirations.

Perhaps he'd found the right place.

But maybe it was _more_ than that. It was the _place_, even more than the people. The air smelt of the salty sea and invaded his senses—beyond the grunts and calls of men, he could hear the roaring of the ocean that seemed unsettled yet calm all at once. And it was the _sky_ that reflected the souls of the men, remaining a dull grey and letting the mist saturate the air.

Somehow, it was exactly what pleased Itachi the most.

Taking his food with him, the Uchiha made his way through the docks, bypassing heavy bins and containers. Close by was where the boats—the _monstrous_ ships—were parked, people coming off and on them while Itachi watched on with disinterested eyes. He chose to ignore the hustle and bustle of the workers, instead heading to the less crowded area, where only few people bothered to look after.

Rusty bins and rodent carcasses littered the place, but Itachi merely wiped off the surface of a bin before hopping on top, settling back against another cold, metal bin. It wasn't comfortable nor was it particularly sanitary, but neither were things that really bothered Itachi. In any case, whether it was something worthwhile or not, Itachi picked up the spoon provided to him and scooped up some of the stew.

It wasn't tasteful in the slightest—rather bland, in fact, as the vegetables were rather dry and the beef was just a _tad_ bit too chewy to be properly enjoyed. However, Itachi forced it all down without so much as a cringe, despite having been brought up on Almas caviar and Wagyu steak. Really, perhaps he _hadn't_ been cut out for the life of a prince anyway—all of this suited him just fine.

However, sometimes when his mind was free to wander—much like it was now—, the pang in his heart became more and more noticeable, reminding him that his problems would always be _there_, just lingering at the back of his mind. And at times, he could still feel the warm arms wrapped around his waist and those thin lips smiling against his own…

"Mind to the matter, Itachi," Itachi spoke to himself, shaking his head and taking another spoonful of stew. He _really_ needed to stop thinking about _him_ (especially when _he_ was currently with _her_). It truly hurt too much and even _contemplating_ thinking about _him_ made his fingers twitch spastically.

"Talking to yourself, boy?"

He looked up promptly at the spoken words. Not a few feet away from him (and how had he not noticed him?) was a slight wisp of a man, aging gracefully with a full grey beard and milky eyes. Instead of answering him though, Itachi merely bowed awkward where he sat and said, "I apologize if I disrupted you in any way, sir."

The man gave him a knowing look, "You speak kinda posh for a dock worker, don't you?" Itachi stiffened but chose to say nothing. He quite liked his current life and having someone who _recognized_ him would only serve to complicate things. Relocating at this point would be rather troublesome, which he…didn't need.

From the corner of his eye, Itachi watched as the old man lugged something from behind an enormous industrial container. The Uchiha lifted a sole, nearly non-existent eyebrow at the strange wheeled contraption and debated whether or not to say anything. He certainly didn't want to form any close-knit friendships here as friendships lead to questions that he didn't necessarily want to answer…—and creating friendships was merely a matter of starting conversation…

"Do you want it?"

"Pardon me?" Itachi questioned, frowning. The old man gave a barking laugh.

"I saw you eyeballing it, Posh-Boy," He teased, holding the _thing_ by his side, "Do you want it? 'Cause I'm throwing it out anyway." The old man gestured to a garbage can several feet away.

"If you don't mind me asking…" Itachi breathed, quickly becoming fascinated by the strange object, "What _is_ it?"

"Are you _daft_, boy? It's a unicycle. The circus folks set up their tents here last week and forgot to bring this when they left. Now, do you want or not?"

Without so much as a second thought, Itachi placed his bowl down and hopped off the bin, making his way to the grinning man, eyes locked on the unicycle. Why had he never heard of such a thing before? The Land of Fire had been a festive land with genial people, and multiple circuses visited the land on multiple occasions—so why was this contraption so unusual to him? The one wheel was large and appeared sturdy, attached to a single bar which held a padded seat.

He touched it lightly, feeling the chilled metal beneath his already numb fingertips. It was such a…he wasn't sure what to call it—it simply enthralled him and Itachi realized that simply throwing it out was not an option. He didn't realize how fixated on it he was until the old man spoke again.

"Well? Want it?"

Breaking out of his slight stupor, Itachi glanced up to the amused eyes of the man, blinking his bleary vision away. Not so much as a word was spoken, but the Uchiha nodded and took the unicycle as it was handed to him roughly. He didn't bother to thank the man for they both knew he'd only given it to him out of convenience.

"Sir, do you know how I use this…?" Itachi began, but when he looked up, the man had already disappeared and a thin fog had settled in the docks once again. His frozen heart attempted to beat, but he simply stared down. These days, feelings of happiness came few and far between—unfortunately never worth mentioning.

He looked at the unicycle again and his heart _skipped_ a beat.

_(What was this?)_

It was going to get dark soon (as he'd just had his meagre supper), so Itachi decided to head off for the night. Picking up the nearly weightless unicycle, he looked down momentarily at the unappealing bowl of unappetizing stew before walking off. He wouldn't have to be at the bunks for another few hours, but going someplace else would be satisfactory.

Because, as lovely as the docks could be, with the raging sea and heavy skies, the place was still filled with zombie-like people who could only work and work until their bones broke through their fragile skin or until they withered away to dust. Such sights Itachi felt uncomfortable seeing, even if he had been here for a few months already.

He'd once lived in a disillusioned world, but it seemed like life could be incredibly meaningless to some.

Wheeling the unicycle down the blocks through the rather bleak town he now lived in, Itachi ignored the perplexed looks he received from the villagers. Although, he was a rather odd sight to them—an admittedly gorgeous young man with mussed up, mid-back-length hair and a unicycle he was wheeling by his side. Why was he living in _this_ simple, sad town and not in some sunny land bordering the rich Mediterranean Sea? However, Itachi was not in the mood to deal with their nosy looks.

The town wasn't _too_ big, but it was spacious enough for there to be plenty of abandoned alleyways. Especially at the areas near the docks, where the more _lively_ townsfolk (if any of them could be called lively) refused to visit—which was understandable, for _Itachi_ could even feel his energy being sapped away among those men. Thinking these thoughts, Itachi entered one particularly empty alley, stopping just after the entrance.

Taking a swift glance down, Itachi sighed, a puff of vapour swirling around his face. Why had he been so reckless as to take the unicycle from the nameless stranger He really needed to stop acting so rashly, but it seemed like his heart made more decisions than his brain ever would. It was something utterly distasteful for an Uchiha, but such things could not be remedied.

Nothing could be fixed so easily.

"Now, what do I do first?" The Uchiha muttered to himself, holding the unicycle. That old man had vanished before Itachi could even ask any questions, which was…irksome to say the least. Not seeing the best way to go about this (other than the obvious), Itachi rolled the contraption a few feet forward before placing one of his feet on the pedals and lifting up.

As soon as he did so, the wheel spun almost completely and Itachi fell backwards, landing on his elbows. A mild look of shock crossed his face as the pain that originated from his tailbone began to spread through the lower half of his body. It was enough to make anyone embarrassed and angry enough to quit on the spot, but…contrariwise…for Itachi, it only made him grit his teeth and stand up, moving to pick up the unicycle.

Again he tried, lifting himself quickly onto the seat and attempting to place his second foot on the pedal. Again, however, he immediately lost his balance, and this time fell forward instead of back. With a scraped chin and aching posterior, Itachi turned narrowed eyes on the unicycle. This ridiculous thing shouldn't be _nearly_ so hard to use…

And maybe it was the accumulated pain and rage inside of him rising to the surface just slightly, but Itachi felt his pulse race in a way that it hadn't before—not in months, in fact, not in _years_. One could say he was acting more like his moody young brother than himself.

No sooner had that thought entered his mind was he back to the unicycle, holding onto one of the walls as he shakily hoisted himself onto it. For some reason, his heart was beating rapidly in his chest. He let go of the wall ever-so carefully and…

"What is _wrong_ with this thing?"

Over and over the unicycle would not let him get on, no matter how long he held onto the stone wall nor how quickly he jumped on. Time after time, the usually dignified prince Itachi was left sprawled on the cobblestone floor, blinking owlishly at the one-wheeled device that rested not a meter from him. But not once did he give up, always getting back up, no matter the pain in his body.

It was undeniably the strangest thing in the world. Uchiha Itachi did not usually take this long to pick up on things—from piano to cooking to the-now manual labour, he'd _never_ not picked up on a skill after his second attempt (at the very least)! But with this frustrating, horrid, tiresome piece of machinery…

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but yes, he did resort to begging a few times. A whispered plea into the padded seat or a feverish look up to the sky while grasping tightly onto the rubber wheel. Was he really so easily irked? Was he really so desperate?

Oh, if only his prideful father could see him now.

There were new cuts and bruises that covered his body—the body that only wore a pair of ratty jeans and a flannel shirt; so different than the regal robes he'd once worn when he lived in Konoha…so different than the robes _he'd_ worn during _his_ stay…so different than everything and…

He could stare up at the sky, but somehow, even in the nearly-pitch darkness, the stars were never visible as the thick clouds hid them like shy children beneath a blanket. They would twinkle occasionally before hiding again, not wishing to be seen and not wanting to see. So, he could gaze up in longing, but…

_[Everything vanishes eventually.]_

_[How is everything so ephemeral?]_

And it was coming now, rushing from that pit in his soul that he'd covered so well and tried to feed to a black hole. Every feeling of betrayal and loss and hurt punched him softly—ever-so _softly_—until those soft punches pilled and pilled, leaving imaginary bruises and imaginary blood on his lips. There weren't tears, but the backs of his eyes stung and his chest constricted painfully.

It was that feeling of not being good enough—of being worthless, and tossed aside because of said worthlessness. It came gripping and gripping—gripping up his long neck to a place in his jaw that made his teeth click together. There was a bitterness welling up inside him because—_I thought I gave it my all, and I thought I was worth something!_

The stars blinked, not wanting to see this composed man break down in an abandoned alleyway miles from home. In him there was a sad soul, one that held a heavy heart and a lifeless spirit—he could very well be like the men from the docks, but something kept him going (and maybe it was pride, but was that really such a bad thing?).

Would Naruto be laughing right now? Chuckling and smiling with Hinata with those eyes that matched maelstroms? Touching and kissing her in ways that he'd once done to Itachi? His stomach fell out and his fingers twitched against the cold metal of the unicycle.

"What did I do?" He whispered, his eyes feeling drier than usual and his heart feeling torn. And that was a rather interesting question.

What.

Had.

He.

Done?

_[I can see the city in your shimmering eyes.]_

So maybe he was lonely and perchance he was despondent, but wasn't everyone? The whole situation just made him want to carve out his heart and ship it away, but wasn't that natural? He was human after all, and despite being made of muscle and tough bones, humans broke rather easily.

Unaware of what he was doing besides the fierce urge to go _home_ and sleep the night away, the Uchiha stood up, as if in a daze, still holding the unicycle between his thin fingers. Without so much as a thought bouncing around in his usually attentive mind, Itachi lifted one foot onto a pedal, then the other…

He was halfway down the road before Itachi noticed what he was doing. The slight gust made his hair lift off his shoulders somewhat and the few people that _were_ still in the streets gave him looks of awe. As soon as he realized what exactly he was doing, the unicycle began to wobble slightly, but Itachi soon regained control as he evened out his breathing.

And then he was laughing—laughing harder than he ever could remember. Because everything was painful and might never heal, but he _knew_ that; and running from the truth always did hurt the most. The pedals underneath him spun reassuringly, whilst his heart fluttered madly in his chest.

_[But you know, I can see the city better in the metal of the unicycle.]_

_[You are not everything I need.]_

\.../

_**A/N:**_** AHA! YATTA! I'm finally done! Oh my god, that took longer than expected, but it was totally worth it! The ItaUnicycle fic is finally done for all my good friends on tumblr! God, if you don't understand…just…please don't get all confused. Or better yet, join us at tumblr! We love to see new faces :D**

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